


13th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [13]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Overwatch (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Anal Gaping, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Extreme Insertion, F/M, Fisting, Forced Feminization, M/M, Male Lactation, Object Insertion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shimadacest, Sloppy Seconds, Somnophilia, Watersports, actual dragon Sojiro, extreme size difference, revenge porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: 13th Batch of my fics





	1. Hanzo/Sojiro

**Author's Note:**

> Hanzo/Sojiro - shimadacest; actual dragon Sojiro; extreme size difference; extreme stretch; Sojiro has two cocks - When Genji shirks his duties, Hanzo has to take them up. He always gets rewarded, though.

Hanzo steps into his father’s den, arms slung around the large jug of fine sake. It should have been Genji’s turn to offer it up, but as per usual, the young dragon is nowhere to be found.

Ever since he gained the ability to change into a human form, he has been sneaking out into the city, _having fun_ with the residents there – as he calls it. Hanzo can imagine it vividly, even if he does not want to. His brother is a lewd creature that does not value the powers given to him by his father’s blood… above the carnal, that is.

“Father,” Hanzo murmurs as he steps closer to the large head. Sojiro is long and sleek in this form, crimson scales glittering gently in the diffuse light of the room. He lazily opens one eye and watches Hanzo carefully deposit the sake within reach.

He slowly lifts his head and sniffs at the offering with deep inhales. When he blows the air out again, it ruffles Hanzo’s hair and brings with it the smell of sake.

“Where is Genji?” the dragon rumbles, eying Hanzo with a golden, cat-like eye. Hanzo wants to shrug with one shoulder but refrains from it just-so. Still, he sounds stubborn and mulish when he answers: “I could not find him anywhere. Neither could the servants.”

Sojiro growls, the sound of it rattling through Hanzo’s body. The thought that Genji will at least get scolded for his recklessness is a bit of a consolation to him. He nods and bows deep, turning to leave his father’s den, but the long tail with the silky tuft of fur at the end stops him soon by curling around his middle.

“Hanzo…” His father’s voice has become smoother again. Cajoling. Hanzo shudders, goosebumps breaking out all over his body as the tail gently wraps around him and urges him backwards once more until his back bumps into his father’s large, warm body. “It is good to have you here, nonetheless…”

Sojiro turns his head, breathing warm air against Hanzo’s neck, ruffling the silky hair that has escaped out of his bun. His snake tongue flickers out, gently tracing Hanzo’s shoulder when his kimono slides down and exposes it.

“Why don’t you stay a while?”

Hanzo breathes in deeply and closes his eyes, leaning fully back against the warm, strong body of his father.

He hums softly.

.o.

Sojiro has two big cocks; long and tapered and an even deeper brick red than the crimson of his scales.

He tries, every now and then, to stuff both into the warmth of Hanzo’s body, but ultimately he always has to concede defeat. The hug of Hanzo’s trembling, human hole is too tight; too fragile to spread any more than the already inhuman way it does when he’s stuffed with one cock.

That does not mean, however, that the warm dragon dick not buried deep into his gasping son’s intestines goes untended.

Hanzo likes to hug it like a teddy bear, nuzzling the weeping tip as its twin drools inside him and gets everything slick and sloppy.

The first few times it had been difficult to stuff him even with that one, big dragon cock, but months later his body has adjusted, and he has learned to relax for his father.

Still, the stretch is… immense.

Whenever Sojiro’s big body moves, hips flexing to push back into the silky clutch of Hanzo’s body, Hanzo’s breath hitches and his whole body _aches_. It is not a particularly bad ache; in fact, it is quite enjoyable – yet it makes him gurgle nonetheless, deep and pathetic in the very back of his throat.

His belly bulges around the massive intrusion. Sojiro’s cock feels insurmountable; like a whole arm being fucked lovingly and with patience into his guts where it is rearranging his insides. It’s twin is flexing against Hanzo’s belly, dragging wet against his human cock.

The surface of the dragon’s blood warm dick is… unique. It is downright rough, almost like a cat’s tongue, never letting Hanzo forget exactly what is happening. It drags along his inflamed rim, making it puffy and achy just as it makes Hanzo’s cock feel unbelievably sensitive as it bounces and pushes against the twin cock snuggled against the outside of his belly.

The dragon is as gentle as he can be; letting Hanzo lie on his side as he carefully ruts into him; fucking him on mere inches on his long cock as he huffs near scalding breath down his son’s sweaty back.

Still, Hanzo is incoherent within minutes, his arms clutching around the second cock, holding on for dear life as he is getting speared, feeling like the rough length of Sojiro’s warm cock has to be nudging at his stomach… maybe his lungs. He feels like he is nothing more than a warm, living sleeve for his father’s big dicks; for him to slide into and deposit his sticky, copious amounts of cum.

When he shudders above him, the second cock convulsing against Hanzo’s chest, the dragon heir knows exactly what to do. He groans as he struggles to roll himself onto his front, arms and legs shivering as he fights to get them beneath himself.

Sojiro’s tongue flickers out, dancing across one of Hanzo’s hot little human ears as some kind of thanks or consolation before he pulls one cock out and fucks the other one back in; being his own sloppy seconds as he utilizes the humiliating gape of Hanzo’s hole to bring himself to completion and fill him up until Hanzo feels like his father’s come will be dripping out of his nose.

There are perks to Genji’s delinquency.


	2. McCree/Hanzo/McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo/McCree - DL!McCree; old Hanzo&Jesse daddy kink; sloppy seconds(thirds, fourths..); multiple orgasms - DL!McCree is there to play and Jesse likes watching him put his boy through his paces.

Jesse can’t even remember ever having been as lanky as the kid that’s folding Hanzo unselfconsciously in half before mounting up again, but he must have been once upon a time. If Hanzo minds the sharp hip bones poking at him while he’s getting put through his paces by a younger and ruder version of his partner, he does not show it.

He does, in fact, not look like he’s in the position to notice much of anything anymore. His face is a dull brick red and sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks as he tries to wheeze through the new position as his knees are nearly at his shoulders.

Hanzo is by far the fitter of the two of them but against the virility of a fresh-out-of-Deadlock Jesse McCree he seems to be at a definite loss.

Jesse watches as his counterpart’s hands cradle Hanzo’s head. They look too big on his lanky frame; like a puppy that still has to grow into his own body. He clumsily wipes the hair out of Hanzo’s eyes while his hips pump down into the wet mess of Hanzo’s hole. He’s already filled him up with a couple loads – fucked even more of them out of the prissy prince – but he not seems to be done by a longshot.

This, at least, Jesse remembers. Being so endlessly horny; bursting with energy. Spending whole afternoons fucking his hand just out of sheer boredom when still with Deadlock…

“Yer so pretty,” Jesse hears his own voice drawl. It’s surreal. Hanzo is making a weird sound in response; a long, drawn-out whine that rattles weirdly in his throat while his glassy eyes are big and soft, staring up at that young, roguish version of Jesse with undivided attention.

Jesse knows that look well, and he feels himself tense in anticipation, leaning forward on the chair he’s pulled close enough to the bed that his knees are hitting the edge of it.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he croons. He wants to reach out and touch Hanzo as well, but he likes the look of McCree’s broad, dirty fingers playing with the greying strands in Hanzo’s hair, then drifting down to rudely tug on his immaculately groomed salt-and-pepper beard. “Don’t you wanna tell him something?”

He catches McCree’s curious glance for a second but does not elaborate further. The kid jumps on it like a dog on a bone, predictably. Jesse does not need to do more than sit back and enjoy the show as the kid braces himself next to Hanzo’s hand and pushes himself up, staring down at him.

In the corner of his eyes, Jesse can see the amputated parts of Hanzo’s legs wiggle pathetically in the air when McCree stops dicking deep into the sloppy mess he’s made of him. Had he been allowed to wear his prosthetics, he is sure his metal toes would have been curling, feet bouncing in the air – but McCree had taken those off of him very early on.

“Yeah? Wanna tell me something?” There’s a glint in his eyes; not mean but close to it. Something sharp and hungry and less affectionate than Jesse. McCree is in it for the sex; he likes getting his dick wet in a hot piece of ass like Hanzo’s, and he’s not pretending anything else. Hanzo does not seem to mind it; if anything, it probably gets him all the hotter and needier… makes him debase himself in front of this young, rude man.

Lets him slap his tits and pinch his ass and tell him to lift it higher so McCree does not have to work so hard.

He’ll do it all just to get a nice deep dicking with Jesse’s cock in a way that Jesse can’t quite make himself do anymore.

He’s become too soft for it; he can’t help wanting to coddle Hanzo and croon at him and _make love_.

“Come on, tell me.” McCree is not even out of breath. He pulls back, dragging his cock out of Hanzo in a slow, wet motion that produces a nasty squelching sound as more of his cum bubbles out; fucked frothy by him already.

Hanzo squawks, undignified, trying to grab for him, but McCree slaps his hands away.

“Daddy.” Hanzo is more than eager to give McCree what he wants as long as it’ll get him filled up again. Jesse groans deep and rattling in his chest. Grabs his own dick through his pants. Having Hanzo call a man less than half his age Daddy is a kink he had not previously considered.

McCree pauses for a second, his mouth an ‘o’ of surprise before it stretches in a long, nasty grin.

“Oh fuck. That’s it, hm? You guys are kinky bastards…”

He moves, not paying attention to Hanzo trying to grab at him and places his hands at the backs of his thighs to have a better leverage to fuck back into him with a sharp, deep thrust that has Hanzo jerking and throw his head back.

He scrabbles at McCree, finally able to curl his hands around his biceps. He is holding on for dear life as McCree starts fucking again in a way Jesse remembers too well; sharp and fast thrusts as he chases his own orgasm and completely forgets about the warm hole around his dick belonging to a person.

Hanzo does not seem to mind. He is chanting Daddy now, voice wobbling in time with the quick thrusts that seem aimed at fucking right through his belly button. Jesse watches it happen with a quiet, pulsing kind of affection. His cock is pressing against the palm of his hand, leaking into his underwear.

He could not bring himself to treat Hanzo with as little respect as McCree does, but it sure is nice watching someone do it… fuck him right through Hanzo’s orgasms and not give a damn about him mewling about overstimulation and trying to wriggle away; he just grabbed him and dicked him through it until he became lax and glassy-eyed again.

It is, quite frankly, a revelation. In some cases, he’d been a wiser men back then.


	3. Sombra/Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra/Reaper – male lactation; ABO(?); mentions of somnophilia – Jesse is gone and Sombra has to take care of Gabriel’s needs because he is stubborn.

She knows the first few days after Jesse’s departure are the worst on him. He is even more irritable and taciturn than usual, wanting to be left alone more than anything else as he quietly hurts and misses his boy, but there is only so much she is willing to take before she decides that enough is enough.

Jesse is not the only pup Gabriel has to take care of, after all.

Sombra might not be as needy and in need of affection as the runt, but she still likes to be the center of attention – especially of _Papi’s_ attention.

She waits for him in his bed, already nice and warm and lulled by the thick, inviting scent of him, and when he steps in and freezes at the door, her name growled in warning, she only rolls herself onto her knees and shows off the bright red of her cunt, already swollen and glistening. Ready.

“Come here, Papi,” she purrs, curling one sharp nailed finger at him. The hard lines of his face relax somewhat. He sighs and lets his broad shoulders hang. He looks old and tired in that moment, and Sombra coos, reaching between her thighs and helpfully spreading her cunt for him to see how excited she is for him already. “Papi…”

He drags his hand across his face. She can hear the rasp of his stubble as he finally concedes and starts taking off his clothes.

“Have you felt lonely?” he murmurs, some of the grumpiness leaving his voice. He sounds more affectionate than he has since Jesse left, and it gets her nipples hard with excitement.

Gabriel sits down at the edge of the bed, reaching for her, but when she sees the state he’s in, she ducks beneath his arm and rolls closer in one fluid motion, her gently pulsing clit forgotten for the moment.

His pecs are swollen, the nipples big and dark and painful looking. He is so full of milk that she can smell it on him even before she drags himself into his lap; it is an almost sickly sweet aroma, thick like cream, and she shows a rare moment of sympathy as she makes a soft sound in the back of her throat.

“You are such an idiot,” Sombra murmurs, slim fingers gently rounding his areola. Gabriel hisses and closes his eyes, head sinking back.

“I know,” he murmurs, unhappily.

“Jesse is not your only pup. You know I love getting Papi’s milk, too.”

“I know,” he says again, a bit louder. He sounds like he is frustrated with himself and how much he still thinks he has to fatten Jesse up when the pup has long since become just as burly as he himself.

Sombra sighs and shakes her head, but Gabriel sounds contrite enough, so she lets it slide for now. She wriggles, getting herself comfortable on his lap as she lowers her head and drags her wet, dark red tongue across his nipple. It even feels hot to the touch, and Gabriel hisses, tensing all over.

The first few drags after she latches are the worst; he makes deep, helpless sounds of hurt as the pressure finally is somewhat alleviated; the milk tastes strangely acidic, too, until it finally starts giving way to the usual creamy thickness, sweet and tangy on her tongue. She has to change teats, then, giving the other one the same treatment just to have Gabriel relax and carefully lean into the sensation.

_Idiot_ , Sombra thinks with affection. She’ll just have to keep it in mind for the next time so she’ll be there and ready to take care of her dumb _Papi_. She forgets all about her needy cunt in favor of drinking. With her belly full of warm milk, she gets sleepy enough that she thinks she might just drift away.

Or maybe she’ll stuff herself with _Papi’s_ nice big dick and let him fuck her into unconsciousness.


	4. RK900/Gavin Reed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Batch 12, Fic 10; Basically more of Gavin being needy for android dick but also kind of shy about it.

Nines does not need to sleep, of course. As far as Gavin can tell he does not even need to do a major power down every few cycles like Anderson’s little fuck toy does. Still, Nines likes to put on expensive silk pyjamas and lie down in an equally expensive bed.

Gavin watches him do it – like a pervert through the small gap in the door, standing outside  and panting hot puffs of air against the wood as he clutches his cheap beer bottle to his chest. He is a bit drunk, maybe. Not enough to touch the polished wood and make himself known, however.

Nines’ part of the house is immaculately clean, stylish and _perfect_. He’d know the second Gavin touched any of his stuff with that freaky android shit he’s equipped with, and while Gavin would never freely admit it, he’s kind of… not… scared of him but… yeah… yeah.

Gavin’s part of the house is… different. _Human,_ he likes to say. He’s tried, once at the very beginning of Nines having been made his partner, to get the android to clean and tend to him like a ‘proper little housewife’.

They quickly came to the conclusion that he’ll never, ever try that again.

The door in front of him suddenly swings open, and Reed finds himself clutching his near empty bottle with both hands, staring up wide eyed into Nines’ calm, neutral face.

“Detective,” Nines says, enunciating it very clearly and without emotion. It still sounds derisive in Reed’s ears. “Can I help you? It is…” he makes a show out of looking at the clock next to his bed though they both know he has a perfect one ticking away at the corner of his vision in his HUD. “11:34 PM.”

He looks back around. His eyes are so cool despite the warm brown color they’ve been manufactured with. Reed just stands and stares at him, his mouth dry. He wants to lift the bottle to his lips but freezes in the motion when Nines scrunches his nose minimally in disgust.

His hands trail down again, hanging limp at his sides. He just about can keep his fingers clutched around the neck of the bottle to keep it from spilling onto Nines’ expensive carpet.

“Uh…”

He just stares, and Nines looks back, unblinking.

“Do you need something, Detective Reed?” Nines asks again, his voice a bit sharper now. They both know why Gavin is standing in front of his door at 11:34 PM, watching him get ready for bed like the fucking creep he is.

He won’t make it easier on him, though.

Nines has been built to torment Gavin Reed, he is sure of it now. 

Gavin licks his lips and looks away. His eyes fall to Nines’ crotch; flat and unobtrusive in the pyjama pants. He remembers being stretched on the android’s cock, though. His insides getting seemingly rearranged, and Gavin shudders, his hole clenching.

“Please,” he whispers, voice thin and pathetic.

Nines lifts one eyebrow and Gavin hates whoever has programmed this fucking asshole with such a sudden intensity that he feels like the room is spinning around him.

“What.”

Gavin grits his teeth, his hand curling so tight around the bottle that he thinks it is a wonder it does not break under the pressure. When he speaks, however, he sounds close to fucking tears. Pathetic.

“Please give it to me.”

Nines makes a thoughtful humming sound at odds with the hand suddenly jerking towards him and grabbing him by the collar.

“I do not have much time, Detective,” he announces when Gavin stumbles, his feet unable to follow as quickly as Nines’ hard grip orders him to move. He’s a fucking liar. They both don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. Still, it works: Reed feels sickly thankful that the damn robot is giving him what he needs.

There are no kisses, no sweet murmurs of affection when he gets pushed down on the bed. It’s what he wants, obviously; he does not want to be _coddled_ by a _machine_ ; but Nines makes it obvious he’s just doing it for… for…

Gavin does not know, exactly. Nines wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want to, but when he pushes Gavin’s pants down and drags the slippery tip of his dick against his tight clench he sighs annoyed and put-upon.

His cock is as inhuman as the rest of him; dribbling lubricant from the tip, silky and warmed by the androids inner heating mechanisms.

He pushes in, forcing Gavin’s hole to spread for him, and Gavin can’t help but _whimper_ , fingers curled into the bedding and face pressed into Nines’ expensive pillow. There’s no discernible scent here. Nines does not live; he does not produce any noticeable scents.

For a moment the bubble that has been growing in Reed’s belly without him noticing is too big; shivering like it is about to burst and make him drown in whatever is going to come out-

Then he feels a touch to his spine, soft, almost no there, and the panicky feeling inside him recedes abruptly.

They do not talk and Reed does not look back, but Nines is more… careful now, pushing in; coaxing him open by gently nudging farther in, one of his long fingered hands on the small of his back; a steady, calming presence.

Reed slowly relaxes into the bedding, his muscles going soft and pliant for the android behind him –

and Nines sneakily pets along his spine.


	5. Sidon/Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link/Sidon – extreme insertion; double stuffing (Sidon has two cocks); size difference – When Link wants something, Sidon just can hold on for the ride.

“L-Link,” Sidon pants, hands scrabbling at the Hylian’s small ankles and carefully curling around them, thumbs dragging across the tender, vulnerable soles of Link’s feet. “Link… hah… you need to… you need to slow down.”

He wants to grab at Link’s hips; urge him back up from where he’s trying to destroy his trembling little hole on Sidon’s cocks, but the last time he tried, Link has _growled_ at him, so he stays put and just… _endures_.

Sidon is leaning back against the big tree right on top of Ploymus Mountain. Farther down the Lynel Link and he have snuck around is still prowling, probably smelling the proximity of both Hylian and Zora but unable to make out their clear destination.

They can’t be too loud, now; need to be nice and sneaky so they won’t get pierced by lightning arrows, but with Link trying so very hard to spear his belly open on Sidon’s cocks it becomes increasingly more difficult.

Sidon closes his eyes, trying to breathe through the sensation of the Hylian’s hot, squishy insides enveloping the tips of his cocks. It is so different to other Zoras who tend to run more on the cold side, and Sidon does not think he’ll ever be able to go back after he felt how soft and scalding and, yes, _eager_ the Hylian Champion is.

He mindlessly keeps swiping his thumbs across the soles of Link’s feet until the Hylian bristles like a cat and snaps around to stare at him. Sidon looks back, watching how flushed Link is. He looks… sick, and he almost wants to ask, concerned for his good friend’s health, but the way Link’s eyes narrow makes him back down again. He knows Link will get impatient if he fusses too much over him.

He smiles apologetically, and as per usual, Link seems to zero in on the jagged edges of his sharp teeth, completely forgetting his earlier annoyance. 

The Champion is inordinately fascinated by the danger they present.

Suddenly, Link stops trying to destroy his tender little hole on Sidon’s cocks – the prince inhales deeply in relief – and turns around. His small hands frame Sidon’s face, suddenly very close now.

He is panting; the hot puffs of air fanning across Sidon’s mouth. He is practically radiating heat. Sidon shivers, his cocks gently flexing and pumping salty liquid. Link stares at him with an almost drunk kind of focus and then jerks forward.

Sidon, instinctively, pulls his head back and bangs it against the bark of the tree. Link, frustrated, grabs the fins left and right of Sidon’s face, and pulls him close, crashing their mouths together.

“Link!” Sidon says against him, alarmed, since he immediately can smell the blood in the air, but the Hylian is unreasonable, kissing him and licking into his mouth with his tender, little tongue until Sidon gives in – again – and reciprocates; letting Link play with his comparatively big, broad tongue.

When Link pulls back, there is a bit of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Sidon is distracted by it until he can feel the little Hylian fumble for his cocks yet again.

“Link,” he whispers, soothing, trying to assuage whatever madness is burning through the little hero – but Link seems dead set, even going so far as to lean forward and bite at Sidon’s shoulder as he squeezes the tapered tips of his cocks into him, and Sidon… well. 

He is not that strong.

He purrs at the amorous biting. It does not hurt his tough skin, after all. He adores Link’s blunt little Hylian teeth gnawing at him desperately while he forces his tender insides to spread for the bulk of Sidon’s cocks as they become a lot fatter around their middles.

Sidon tries to shush him; to talk him down from it without whining too loudly and pulling the Lynel’s attention onto the two of them; all the while Link makes those delicious little sounds of hurt and passion in the back of his throat.

In the end, of course, he manages to stuff himself full.

Sidon is not entirely sure how he manages it, but one moment Link is still struggling, tongue lolling and dripping saliva onto his chest, and the next he is sitting fully in Sidon’s lap and looks at him with a positively vapid, sexed-out grin.

When Sidon looks down, his breath stutters and his fingers spasm where they lie on Link’s strong thighs, accidentally nicking him with sharp claws.

He can see himself in Link’s usually tightly muscled belly. There is a prominent bulge right in the middle, pressing lewdly outward from his insides and showing just how deeply and to the brim he’s filled himself with cock.

Sidon exhales harshly. He wants to touch the bulge but is afraid of further hurting Link with the sharp tips of his nails. The sweet scent of blood is going to his head, and along with the sight and feeling of his cocks stuffed in the Hylian’s belly, he has to close his eyes and hide his face against Link’s throat.

Link huffs, his short arms coming up around Sidon’s shoulders, trembling hands patting at his back; consoling the Zora prince even though he is the one so deeply stuffed with his flexing, twitching cocks.

Sidon will eat him out for hours afterwards; make up for how shamefully weak he is when it comes to Link; show him a good time by filling his sloppy gaping hole with his big tongue.

Link, as if sensing what he is thinking, sighs happily and starts to slowly move on the prizes he’s stuffed himself with.


	6. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – Object insertion; dirty talk; fisting; blink-and-you-miss-it reference to watersports – Jesse has shot his load and he needs to become inventive if he wants to satisfy Hanzo.

“God, you are so needy… Anybody ever told ya that you are a high maintenance bitch?”

Jesse pushes the brim of his hat up just enough to get a look at Hanzo kneeling between his lazily spread legs, presenting him with a truly sloppy hole. It’s still gaping from the reaming Jesse has given him earlier, creamy cum dripping down his taint.

It looks wrecked and, frankly, disgusting, but Jesse is into that kind of shit.

He’s also into Hanzo being a needy cockslut, but it is more fun this way. Hanzo gets hilariously desperate when Jesse calls him out on thirsting for cock every minute of a day, and while Jesse usually does not like being _mean_ , he certainly has no qualms playing into his partner’s desires.

Anything that is fun for the both of them, as far as he is concerned.

Hanzo does not make much of a sound. He is looking back over the swell of his shoulder, staring at Jesse with luminous eyes as he reaches between his legs and stuffs a few fingers easily into the loose gape Jesse has left behind.

There’s something accusatory in his gaze; like he wants to say ‘this is your fault’ or ‘you stretched me out like this, now do something about it’, and Jesse sighs heavily. His cock is still wet and flushed, lying soft against his thigh. It tries to get interested but there is not much happening beyond a weak twitch.

“Geez. Alright. Wait a damn second.”

Jesse casts his eyes around. Finally, he sees a couple stout glasses and the bottles of beer they drank earlier. He smirks and reaches over.

.o.

Hanzo is scandalized when he realizes what Jesse is fucking him on. He makes a sound like an enraged bird, trying to crawl away from the cool glass being shoved up his rectum, but Jesse lunges forward and curls an arm around one of his thighs, keeping him put as he shoves more of the bottle into him.

“There ya go. Stay still; don’t want to lose my grip on it, hm? Though I’d like to watch you try to explain that one to Angela…”

Hanzo whines pathetically in his throat, the tips of his ears flushed a hot red as he comes to a reluctant stand still. He even bears down on it, and Jesse chuckles metal thumb tapping against the glass bottom of the bottle.

“Oh what do you know? There’s still a bit left in there… you don’t mind, though, right?”

Hanzo’s whine becomes a low gurgle. He lowers his shoulders to the bed, arms coming up above his head to hide as he lets himself get fucked on a beer bottle. Jesse thinks it is _hilarious_.

.o.

When Jesse changes to the stout glass – more for a good whiskey or scotch than some cheap beer – Hanzo doesn’t even protest anymore. He gasps, though, as Jesse carefully tries to stuff the blunt object into the soft gape of his rim.

The extraction of the bottle had been followed by the wet dribble of the last dregs of beer that had been in it. It smells like they rolled in the booze and Jesse knows for a fact Hanzo would have bitched about it any other time but he’s become curiously quiet now after Jesse almost fucked him to orgasm on a bottle.

Maybe it’s the embarrassment – or maybe it is the feeling of being filled with a new obstacle.

The stretch is immense, made harder by the fact that there is no slim bottle neck to ease the way this time, and Jesse sits forward, one big hand petting along Hanzo’s spine and then gripping his hip hard to keep him from making any little motions that could hurt him.

He stops playing it cool in favor of telling Hanzo how good and lewd he looks with his hole stretched so wide.

“I can see inside you, babydoll,” Jesse murmurs. “You’re so red inside…”

Hanzo gurgles. He does not look at Jesse but his humiliated flush has since encompassed all of his upper body.

“Damn I didn’t know you could stretch so far… I almost think I could…”

Jesse licks his upper lip. There’s a roar in his ears as he carefully pulls the glass out of Hanzo (he almost thinks he should hear a _pop_ when the desperate clutch of his muscles finally lets go of it) and instead lines up the smooth metal of his prosthetic hand.

It’s a bad idea, he knows that, but it is hard to think of anything else when he sees how easily he can fit four fingers into Hanzo when he folds them just _so_.

He tucks his thumb into his palm. Blood is pounding in his cheeks. He can barely hear Hanzo above the roar in his ears.

When the widest part of his palm starts pushing in, Hanzo groans, voice climbing a few octaves. It sounds brittle, like it is about to break.

“Oh _Goood…_ ”

His hips hunch down and Jesse shushes him hectically, tries urging him back up. He only has eyes for his hand pushing into the soft gape of Hanzo’s rectum. He does not know what is going through Hanzo’s head, feeling the unrelenting, cool metal push up into his guts, but he knows that it is damnably hot watching it happen.

“Damn… Hanzo… Han- babydoll.. fuck, my _hand_ \- it’s…”

He bites the tip of his tongue. A last little nudging push and finally, Hanzo’s rim clamps down around his wrist. He wishes he could feel how hot and silky he is inside. Hanzo grunts, relieved when the worst stretch is finally gone.

He’s mouthing _shitshitshit_ over and over again as he starts moving; carefully dragging his hand inside Hanzo’s clutch. Hanzo does not react much to it until he gingerly curls his fingers into a fist.

_Then_ he gives a feedback: he is groaning, his tongue out, drooling into the bedding as Jesse fist fucks him. He has to put immense pressure on Hanzo’s prostate because the next thing he knows, Hanzo is coming as if he’s pissing – shuffling his knees farther apart and just dribbling the whole mess onto the mattress beneath.

Staring into Hanzo’s slack face, Jesse wonders if one can actually be fucked stupid. He is almost a little concerned.


	7. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier76/Reaper - SEP; body horror (?); injections gave Jack a knot; no ABO; slutty Gabriel - Jack is so ashamed of it but Gabriel needs a good dicking and doesn’t care what Jack’s cock looks like.

While Jack and Gabriel usually display no regard for each other’s privacy – horny fuckers as they are – shower time usually is an _alone time_. It is not like it is a rule, really, but over time it had just turned out that way.

Gabriel respects it, most of the time. It is not like he’s starving of cock; Jack’ll give it to him readily whenever he asks for it (or straight-up demands it, hands already down the other soldier’s pants, grabbing at the big, meaty cock there), but these past two weeks have been…

They have been _lacking_ , to say the least. Something is up with Jack; he can’t exactly put his finger on it but it is nevertheless obvious with how the other soldier is avoiding him; flushing hot and gently pushing Gabriel’s hands away when he tries to start things.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Jack has become _shy_ but that seems ludicrous at this point. No, it is something else. Something almost sinister. Like Jack is _ashamed_ of something.

It makes Gabriel think that the chemicals they get regularly pumped full with might be fucking with his head again; it would be nothing out of the ordinary – almost everybody has been subject to night terrors or other shit at this point.

In any case – Gabriel will get the bottom of this. If that means having to slide into the bathroom while Jack is showering, than it’s no skin off his nose. Gabriel is horny and he wants _dick_ and he’ll find out what the _fuck_ is wrong with Jack that he’s been holding out on him for two entire _goddamn_ weeks.

.o.

Jack has his eyes clenched shut. He can’t make himself look at his dick or it becomes _weird_ … or, well _weirder_ than having his fingers wrapped around the weird swell at the base that has developed over the last couple weeks-or-so.

It is hard and blood hot to the touch when he’s horny like he is now; and when he clenches his fist on it, it makes heat zing up his spine and settle at the base of his nape.

He groans – whines, really – when he gives it a few erratic, hard squeezes. His other arm which is bracing himself against the slick shower wall, is trembling. His knees are feeling weak.

He is so deep into it, trying to come as fast and quiet as possible before Gabriel becomes _suspicious_ , that it takes him longer than normally to feel how _cold_ it has become despite the hot water beating down on him.

Jack jerks his head around, staring with a look of utter dismay at Gabriel, who, in turn, is staring down at the dick and fat swell he can’t adequately hide in his big hand, mouth open and eyes wide.

“Gabriel-” He stops himself. He does not even know know what to say. It is… it is disgusting. An anomaly. He would have gone to the scientists long ago if he weren’t so mortified by the sudden changes of his body.

“Fuck… are you for real?” Gabriel hisses. He plants his hand on Jack’s chest and pushes him until his back hits the slick wall of the shower. Gabriel crowds in, clothes and all, then slaps Jack’s hand away from his cock.

“Mine!” he growls. It sounds feral. Jack swallows hard, hands up at his shoulders.

“I… o...k?”

Gabriel does not hesitate. He goes at it like a man starved, and Jack feels strangely guilty because he knows it to be true. All he can do is hold his breath and stay as still as possible as Gabriel goes to his knees to have a look at the strange… protrusion.

It is fat and symmetrical, a swell at the base of his dick that can not be ignored. It’s flushed almost the same ruddy red as Jack’s tip.

Gabriel leans forward, eyes glancing up as he snakes his tongue out to drag across the… knot. Jack pulls in air through his teeth, his knees nearly buckling. He carefully reaches out with a shaking hand and puts it against Gabriel’s forehead to shield his face somewhat clumsily from the spray of water.

Gabriel’s face goes a bit softer at that and he presses a kiss against the new part of Jack’s body.

It is a weird out-of-body experience to think that Gabriel doesn’t even seem concerned about it; hasn’t asked what the _fuck_ Jack had done to his dick – just gone down to his knees and is starting to worship Jack like having the knot of a goddamn dog is the most normal thing in the world.

Jack had noticed, of course, how desperate Gabriel has become for a good dicking down, but he hadn’t thought it would be _this_ dire…

“I want you to fuck me with this,” Gabriel pants against the base of Jack’s cock, lips hot and sloppy against it, tongue silky as it curls against the sensitive, thin skin. He looks up, pretty brown eyes as hot and needy as the rest of him.

“Can it… can it go down? Does it swell or something? Fuck… I need to know how I can get that thing inside me, Jackie.”

He leans back, hand around Jack’s cock, jerking him in quick, harsh motions that have starts spark in front of his eyes until his knees finally _do_ buckle, and he slides to the ground, forehead thumping against Gabriel’s shoulder.

“You can’t be for real?” he whines, usually gravelly voice gone high and sweet.

“Jack,” Gabriel growls back. It’s a warning; his body hotter against Jack than the warm water rushing down on them.

God, he can’t _believe_ how hot Gabriel is for cock-

“Y-Yeah… o-ok. Just… just let us get out of here. Fuck, Gabriel, don’t… don’t squeeze like that-”

He helplessly humps into Gabriel’s hand, cheeks going so very hot when he realizes that he is actually fucking like a dog now, too.

Gabriel does not seem to mind. He practically pulls him out of the shower dick first.

“Come. Now. Fuck, you are ridiculous.”

Jack just helplessly follows.


	8. McCree/Zenyatta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Zenyatta – Omnic Zenyatta; 300 words – Jesse finds out how nice it is to fuck an Omnic.

Jesse pushes his cigar into the other corner of his mouth, then puts his cheek against the side of Zenyatta‘s faceplate.

He looks down along the Omnic‘s body, one big hand sliding up a slim metal thigh to press against Zenyatta‘s mid section.

The black part there is soft; not quite cloth but close to it – warmed from the inside by Jesse‘s cock fucked nice and snug in there.

He can feel himself through the thin protective layer. As he experimentally curves his palm around the outline of his dick, he can feel it flex against it.

He puffs out air, nudging his cheek against the side of Zenyatta‘s faceplate to gain his attention.

„Could probably jerk myself off like that, hm?“

Zenyatta makes a mild sound that Jesse can‘t hope to interpret. Maybe it‘s surprise at him suddenly speaking up after spending the better half of the past hour slowly fucking into the Omnic and nudging his sticky tip up against delicate machinery.

Maybe it is arousal at the thought of Jesse fully reducing him to nothing but a sex toy - just jerking himself off inside him like he is a highly sophisticated fleshlight.

His insides ripple around Jesse; a perfectly oiled machine designed to please him and squeeze down all around his cock. Massage him to try and coax him into shooting his load – though he can’t imagine what that will do to Zenyatta’s insides.

The thought of the Omnic having to go in for repairs because delicate pistons and fine cables are smeared in cum is impossibly tantalizing to him.

“You don’t have anything else to do for the afternoon, right?” he mutters. He feels lazy and indulgent and not ready to give up the warm, synthetic clutch of Zenyatta’s fake cunt just yet.

“I… I am meeting with G-G-Genji…” Zenyatta’s voice glitches badly at the name of his student. Jesse grins, teeth digging into the end of his cigar. He drags his bristly beard against Zenyatta’s smooth faceplate yet again and curls his hips, fucking up into the Omnic sitting so pretty and docile on his lap.

“I am sure he won’t mind meeting here with us instead…”

Zenyatta groans softly.


	9. Bob/Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bob/Team – kidnapping; Stockholm Syndrome – Bob is content being the Watchpoint’s sentient fuck toy.

Watching Bob work is mesmerizing. He is – as is usual for omnics – tireless and relentless, but there is a special brand of _enthusiasm_ that accompanies his actions that is strangely endearing.

They had thought he might become depressed, like a pet that has suddenly been separated from its master, but they suppose his current occupation is similar enough to his former one that it might just smooth out any ruffled feathers.

At least he had never hesitated to perform.

It does not need much encouragement to make him open his leather chaps and show off the pretty cock he has gotten himself however long ago. It is fat and stout and obviously not a part of his original set-up, as the material is of a tightly woven mesh that keeps it malleable enough to simulate a real dick, though the similarities end there.

(Mei had been the first to find out how the mesh will also let the thick, syrupy lube through if his cock is squeezed a bit mean in a little hand, and _oh_ what a nice discovery that had been…)

It’ll be ready with just a bit of play; his internal machinery working smooth and eager to get it to stand up for whoever wants to have a ride (and it excites Zenyatta to think that Bob must have put aside a considerable amount of time to intentionally rework his protocols to make the readying for intercouse a top priority).

Bob fucks like a machine – to the surprise of no one. He’ll flip them around like they weigh nothing, depositing them on whatever surface he can find to stuff them full of cock.

The first time he did it to Zarya, she had made a sound like a startled bird, grappling at Bob’s biceps as her brain tried to process the happenings. It had been the first time she’d been _manhandled_ and put on a cock like she weighs nothing; like she is a delicate little flower against the omnic strength of the Watchpoint’s new breeding bull.

It had done even more to her than the deep dicking; the slide of his warm, slick filled cock sliding into her ass and having her bite into her forearm to try and stay quiet.

He is surprisingly nice about it. Maybe it is his ingrained subservience as a former butler, or maybe it is something that he has been trained in by Ashe. Whatever it is, they are not complaining as they get fucked into the ground, their bodies slick with the silky artificial cum he produces as he quietly works away at them.

Mercy will not always indulge in his big cock. Getting fucked by Bob is a messy affair that takes time she does not have to clean up. She will indulge in other play more often than not:

She’ll sit on his thick fingers, riding them as she desperately, meanly pinches at his clit, one hand stuffed underneath her sensible sweater to grab at her own tits.

Other times she’ll ride his face, the plump lips of her cunt parting over the edge of his beard as Bob makes his chin vibrate for her.

He is a good addition to the team, even though he is not allowed to use his brawn in battle. The major morale boost he provides more than makes up for that.

It is not like they captured the big omnic with the intent of riding his cock or having him grunt fuck them into the ground, but as with so many of the more depraved things happening on base, McCree had been in the center of the beginnings.

He’d been drawn to the Omnic like a moth to the flame, a deep-seated memory resurfacing as he’d been confronted with the burly, hulking frame of their captive, and nobody could have kept him from sneaking into the cell and basically worshipping the gentle giant; mouth greedy and hands so very busy at coaxing Bob into compliance.

It had been Lúcio finding him a few hours later, scrabbling at the walls as he got fucked from behind, Bob’s big hands holding him up high enough to comfortably drill into him while McCree’s long legs had been dangling uselessly in the air, his cheek pressed against the cold metal wall.

And maybe Lúcio should have immediately sounded the alarm, but he just couldn’t make himself do it – not when Jesse looked so… _happy_ – drooling in contentment as he finally got dicked good again like he’s been conditioned to enjoy so many years ago when Bob had deflowered him on a few rickety crates in the very back of the storage room.

Nobody can deny just how well-behaved he is; a quiet companion waiting to service them, small eyes blinking at them friendly as he has yet to deny any of them his attention.

After all, everything will stay with him, as he only rarely will make a soft click or deep beep in rudimentary Omnic language. If he can speak common, he has yet to show any inclination to do so.

He is a… good boy – simple as that.


	10. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McHanzo – REVENGE PORN TW (at least I hope it is... while writing I realized I don’t know much about it alökdfjaösdjf); rape tw (?); dub-con; forced feminization; put the last ko-fi prompt in with this one so this is longer; gaping; big dick McCree; dirty talk; dark McCree – McCree has an agenda. Hanzo does not realize it until it is too late.

It had all begun one fateful night at the Watchpoint with the team celebrating the extraordinary outcome of a mission and Hanzo indulging in way too much liquor. Looking back, he does realize that McCree had been the most adamant about keeping his glass topped or making sure that he always had a new bottle of _whatever_ in hand before he could finish the last.

Back then he had thought the cowboy is simply putting the moves on him and is trying a little too hard to be desirable, and Hanzo – feeling smug and charitable – let him. After all, it has been a while since someone has tried so very hard to woo him, and those dark brown, loyal eyes hadn’t been too hard to look at either.

Now, Hanzo knows better, obviously. Genji had warned him rather early in his stay at the vigilante group – that McCree is jovial and a good friend but also a _fiend_ that shouldn’t be trusted too lightly – but Hanzo had not thought the man had it in him. His idiocy, quite clearly, had been a ruse.

For while Jesse McCree indeed is very much _interested_ in Hanzo, he also has made perfectly sure that Hanzo has no other option than to give him what he so very clearly desires.

Hanzo can’t remember too much of that night after midnight. The others couldn’t tell him much, either, after careful prodding. McCree had coaxed him into a secluded corner, and while he had not touched him – much – it still had brought forth the picture and video that Hanzo can not, under any circumstances, have others see.

It had been humiliating, being confronted with his own lewd display; his hakama bunched around his knees and ass in the air, Hanzo fucking three fingers into himself on what clearly was too little lube if the flush of his obscenely pouting rim had been anything to go by.

McCree had shown him the video with an air of infuriating calm, looking around Hanzo’s room while holding his phone in one hand to show him.

The video is not too long; some 2 or 3 minutes, and Hanzo knows every detail of it with humiliating clarity because McCree will not let him forget.

And then there is the _picture_. It is almost worse than the video; Hanzo lying on the ground like a common whore, his face beet red from alcohol and dumb, drunk arousal, deliriously holding a sign up above his gently gaping ass. _All For Jesse McCree_.

Jesse had known what these would do to Hanzo. Of course he had. He is a much more intelligent man than Hanzo had sadly given him credit for, and now he is paying for his lapse in judgement every day – sometimes twice.

Jesse’s sadism knows no bounds. It is almost… inspiring, though right now Hanzo would rather squeeze his throat until his face turns an alarming shade of purple.

“Don’t scowl like that, babe. That’s not how pretty girls are s’posed to look.”

The last McCree says with an obvious laugh in his voice. He knows Hanzo looks goddamn ridiculous in the petticoat he’s making him wear, but when Hanzo chances a glance over at him, there is a huge bulge between his thighs. His idiot cock is, as always, interested.

Hanzo tries to kneel with some modicum of honor, but it is difficult with the scratchy material reminding him the whole time. The fabric feels flimsy; like it will tear across his bulging muscles when he does a wrong motion, and it rustles every time he shifts minutely.

“Stand up. Let me see.”

Hanzo does. He has learned to fight his battles and this is not something he is willing to lose energy or sleep over. McCree is slowly eroding him; he plays his game infuriatingly well.

He stands and, after a second of mulishness, turns in a little circle. McCree’s eyes are intent on him. He hates that he still thinks they are pretty and loyal looking.

McCree looks like he wants to take another little _film_ but that is something that will Not Happen. He seems to come to the same conclusion, because after looking his fill, he sighs deep and slaps his hands on his knees before getting up.

“Alright, babydoll. I love the way you look in the dress Daddy gave ya, but your tits look too nice and I’m just too weak…”

Hanzo balls his fists tight at his side, teeth grit so hard that his head is starting to ache. He only realizes he said something, anything, when McCree’s face suddenly goes a shade darker. Dead serious.

“Why are you _doing_ this?” he had said, voice barely not cracking.

McCree advances on him, face still set, big fist lifting…- but all he does is to grab Hanzo at the throat, leaning towards him until their noses are almost touching.

“You almost killed my best friend and drove him near the brink of insanity,” he whispers, voice dangerously silky. Hanzo can feel his heart skip a beat and his mouth gets awfully dry.

The expression stays on Jesse’s face before it slowly smooths back into something more jovial. Hanzo had not realized he had stopped breathing, until he suddenly starts again.

Jesse lets go of him abruptly and pats his cheek.

“I think being my personal whore is just a small price to pay to atone for all the shit you’ve put him through, don’t you think?” He claps his hands, then rubs them together. “Now how ‘bout you let Daddy see that nice cunt you’re hidin’ from him? You were a good girl and prepared yourself, weren’t you?”

Hanzo, taken aback by the sudden change in tone, has to take a second to recenter himself, his fingers curling around the hem of the little petticoat.

“I…” not being able to come up with anything while his mind races, Hanzo’s shoulders sag and he nods his head. “Yes.”

.o.

Shimada might hate the way how it is happening but once Jesse has his dick in him he is as docile as any cheap whore he’s paid for their services along the way. 

He does not care much if Shimada has sleepless nights over all of this; turning around and around, eating himself up over being made the cockslut for the _dirty cowboy_. He does not care for any of his hysterics, or if he is driven towards the brink of madness because the thought of others realizing just how lewd and sloppy and _dishonorable_ he is is just too much to bare.

In his book, Shimada has earned all of this and more. 

He should be glad that Jesse is even making him feel good at the end of it all as he grunt fucks into him – his hole by now soft and silky, used to taking his big dick without any of the incessant whining he had been annoying Jesse with in the beginning.

_It’s too big!_

_It won’t fit!_

_Ahh hhhh you’re tearing it, you brute!_

These and so many more complaints; Hanzo trying to convince him to stop and have mercy on him until he realized that nothing would help – and finally it had tapered off into nothingness.

Jesse would almost be convinced he’s lying back and _thinkin’ of England_ if his slutty hole wasn’t so very greedy in milking him, or he weren’t hearing all those breathy, bitten off little sounds Hanzo is muffling into the palm of his own hand.

Jesse doesn’t care much if Hanzo enjoys it or not. In the beginning, when the rage had still been simmering hot in his blood, he’s been hellbent on trying and making it as little enjoyable for him as possible.

By now, it has mellowed out into something softer and more neutral. He simply doesn’t care for the person whose velvety fucked-out hole he’s dicking – and when he flips the petticoat up and over Hanzo’s head he can even pretend he’s fucking one of the sloppy, cheap whores he used to find on the roads leading to dingy roadside motels.

A nice lay, he supposes.


End file.
